


No Higher Calling

by lightspeedlucy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Discord: Bellamione Cult, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23853169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightspeedlucy/pseuds/lightspeedlucy
Summary: A present for the consistently wonderful Raven_Tonks, with elements as requested.  Please note the rating as this is kinky (and thus the 'graphic depictions of violence' warning) and sexually explicit with Blackcest in future chapters. Consent issues range from extremely dubious to mildly dubious and that's just in the first chapter. There will be a major character death, as warned.In a world where Bellatrix decided to simply cast Legilimens on Hermione, she is surprised at what she finds in the younger witch's head, thus altering the course of history.  Voldemort wins, Bellatrix keeps Hermione as her pet, and years pass before both of their lives are about to change suddenly because of the other. And not necessarily for the better.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	No Higher Calling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raven_Tonks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Tonks/gifts).



> Chapter title and mood from the lyrics of Arctic Monkeys' "Do I wanna Know?". Our lead ladies meet and the world changes. Then everything changes for them both again years later when Bellatrix announces they will be going on a trip soon.

Everything changed the moment Bellatrix saw Hermione’s memories. She had cast _Legilimens_ hoping to find a phobia or a happy memory to taunt her and torture her with. Instead, she found a bounteous garden of delights that was crying out for nurturing, and Bellatrix immediately made herself the gardener. Everywhere she looked, there was the mudblood needing, no, demanding, a superior hand to take care of her. Over there, she cries from having no one to silence the noise in her head, over there she pines to be pinned in place and forced out of her mind to deal only with the present, and, oh, there was the beauteous focal point of the unkempt garden, a _very different_ memory of Bellatrix’s capture of Hermione in the Department of Mysteries with _Incarcerous_ , some light choking, and, oh, how delightful, a knife and blood. Bellatrix cackled as she left Hermione’s head, her mind flooding with ideas. This was going to be glorious! 

  
  


Hermione studied her reflection in the mirror. Robes, such as they were, presentable, hair contained swept up behind her head, and collar caressing her throat while the attached large ring lay perfectly placed, resting on her collarbone, waiting for a lead to snap on as She desired. Hermione breathed deeply to steady herself as she thought of Her, as she often did. She was both everything and nothing like she had fantasised about since the Department of Mysteries. The same Witch who tortured and murdered actually treasured her, muggleborn her, though She was fond of reminding Hermione that she was lesser.

Actually, come to think of it, She hadn’t called her anything more demeaning than “pet” for months. Upon further consideration, she realised that not long after she started trying hard to “be a good girl” (she involuntarily shivered at the term) as Bellatrix put it, the verbal abuse had ceased. Her pulse started racing. She didn’t want to assume, but that evidence suggested that one of her oldest hypotheses, based on her initial observations of Her, was likely valid; Bellatrix had feelings for her. Hermione had thought she had seen more than obsessive joy and sadistic glee in those eyes when she’d woken up to them above her so long ago now. She needed more data before being confident enough to accept her hypothesis. But she hoped so much that Bellatrix had feelings for her like she had for Her. Hermione didn’t want that kind of humiliation. 

Hermione shook herself out of her head, discovering with a quick wandless and silent _Tempus_ that she was about to be late to breakfast, and she so didn’t want to disappoint Bellatrix. She enjoyed Her praise too much.

Once at the breakfast dining table, Hermione quickly and efficiently removed her robes, exposing most of herself and a gorgeous red wine leather underbust corset with black accents, matching her collar and her knickers. She calmly kneeled, facing the most impressive chair, keeping her back straight and her legs wide enough for Bellatrix but not wide enough that anyone else could see more than a bit of bare legs. Bellatrix liked showing her off, but also demanded that any part of Hermione that she viewed as for Her “exclusive appreciation” be kept from others’ view. Hermione sometimes wondered if part of the reason why Bellatrix was so insistent on her exclusive appreciation is because she knew just how depressed it made Hermione to expose certain parts of herself to people she didn’t know and didn’t trust. She still had nightmares about the abuse she had received in physical education. Even after the primary school finally granted the request her parents had made for years and she was finally able to change privately, other children still mocked her. It had only ended with going to Hogwarts. Even so, she never swam in the Black Lake until she completely mastered an appropriate concealment spell that she discovered in the library second year. No one had ever known at Hogwarts. Bellatrix, of course, had discovered immediately. Strangely, She hadn’t ever insulted Hermione for it. She did use an enlarging spell once while Hermione fucked Her, but never did it again after Hermione proceeded to immediately panic, including hysterical crying, before going into a silent dissociation it took Bellatrix hours to bring her back from. Which She had, all by Herself, not even calling on a servant. She had held the unmoving woman the whole time, that much Hermione knew. She didn’t know if the memories of singing came from her addled mind, having hallucinated singing while petrified by the basilisk, or actually Bellatrix. The voice seemed believably enough Bellatrix, though the singing did not. Still, Hermione believed that the rule about things for Her exclusive appreciation started soon thereafter.

Hermione suddenly realised that She was entering the room and swiftly became present. Bellatrix didn’t like Hermione getting lost in her head, claiming she couldn’t appreciate all that Bellatrix did for her if she “failed to pay attention to the lessons her betters presented to her constantly.” The only lessons Hermione had gleaned from the “betters” she endured for Bellatrix involved how little power, skill, or general magical competence most of them demonstrated. While all of them seemed politically competent, based on the political events she had trailed Bellatrix to, they failed to impress Hermione with anything but their ripeness for being overthrown. Voldemort might be super-competent, but his regime started, and remained, corrupt. Even Bellatrix seemed unsettled by her fellow Death Eaters’ and hangers’-on corruption and gross incompetence. And, Morgan La Fey’s legs, she had gotten lost in her head again.

“Pet,” Bellatrix said, in that warmly-possessive voice that Hermione had long ago given up on not finding almost hypnotising in the way it soothed her.

“Yes, madam?” Hermione replied promptly, head slightly down, eyes downcast.

Bellatrix merely responded by arching an eyebrow at her.

Hermione crawled on her hands and knees to Her, making sure that she swayed her hips in the exaggerated way that Bellatrix obviously preferred, based on the way Her eyes almost glowed when Hermione did it. Hermione made sure to maintain eye contact as required and saw the happy glint every time her hips shifted. It quickly became more than just a glint in her eyes, and Hermione knew today was going to be a good day.

Hermione finished her crawl next to Bellatrix’s seat and assumed the slightly more comfortable position of slumped against the chair leg so that Mistress could idly pet her as she ate and conversed with any guests present for breakfast. While She generally merely petted and played with Hermione’s hair, She also enjoyed stroking Hermione’s bare skin, on rare instances even drawing Hermione up onto her knees and kissing spots randomly, her cheek, her wrist, the top of her head, though that was generally when Bellatrix dined alone. Hermione originally had resisted her pleasure at all of these affections, but now she leaned into them. Mistress’ touch both grounded her and felt right even as sometimes made her shiver from her sensitivity and desire.

As expected, Bellatrix caressed her hair and along her arm, causing Hermione to shiver and Bellatrix to smirk. Unexpectedly, Bellatrix smiled at her and addressed her.

“We will be going to visit family soon. You will need appropriate preparation to be presentable. We start after breakfast.”

Hermione did her best not to gape at Mistress, knowing how that would end and wanting to be able to sit when allowed. “Preparation” could mean anything from being required to memorise all the members and their political positions and alliances of the Wizengamot and the Privy Council that Voldemort had established to pacify Death Eaters desiring power to Bellatrix wanting to fuck Hermione in yet another way that She hadn’t previously. Hermione wondered what was going on, but knew better than to ask Mistress any questions unprompted. Instead she answered calmly, “Yes, Mistress.”

“We begin after breakfast and will be at it all day, so eat up. You will be required to eat meals properly at the table of at least some of the homes, so sit up at the table and demonstrate that you are not going to embarrass me.”

Thanks to proper training, Hermione immediately took the only other place set at the table. Though it was breakfast on the plate, the place was set for a formal dinner with the usual plethora of flatware and plates and bowls.

Bellatrix proceeded to quiz her on etiquette as well as Black family history while they ate, even as She left Hermione disrobed, enjoying both the view and Hermione’s discomfort. Mistress might be harsh, but she demanded her pet stay adequately fed, claiming her appearance reflected on Bellatrix. Hermione never pointed out that Mistress’ house elves looked bloody awful, but She never showed them such concern. More probable evidence for Bellatrix having some feelings for her.

“Now we begin the more pressing preparations, pet,” Mistress said as they entered the room usually used for training Hermione, Hermione still disrobed and following on a leash that matched her corset and the cuffs fastening her wrists behind her back.

Bellatrix waved her wand silently, and the previously-empty room quickly transformed into a well-stocked magical home dungeon, including a canopy bed with a noticeably thick wood framing it. On the walls hung a variety of magical floggers, canes, strap-on harnesses with matching dildos, fetters, cuffs, and on and on. Hermione shuddered involuntarily, by now intimately familiar with all of them, Mistress having insisted on her receiving “a proper education for a mudblood”.

Bellatrix turned to Hermione, magically releasing her cuff fastenings and lead. “Crawl.”

Hermione dropped to her hands and knees and proceeded to crawl towards the bed, wondering why Mistress had her repeating training she already excelled at. Hermione tried not to reflect how much she enjoyed crawling while others walked. She concentrated instead on reassuring herself that crawling just felt fun while ignoring that she enjoyed it even more when Bellatrix had her on a lead.

“No, not like you’re crawling for me. Less sway, more prowl.” Mistress interrupted with a stinging hex to her bare arse.

Hermione refused to let her surprise show and instead focused on imitating Crookshanks stalking a rat only to immediately get another stinging hex in the arse.

“You’re trying to seduce, not get a meal,”Bellatrix growled at her, scowling. 

Hermione visibly startled, and immediately received another stinging hex, as Mistress jealously refused “to let others use my own pet that I caught for myself when they get can get their own”. Few dared after Voldemort let Bellatrix publicly murder Rudolphus Lestrange for attempting to steal Hermione for his own uses. So why was Mistress training her to seduce but not seduce Her? Hermione immediately decided to not think about that and concentrate on accomplishing the task Bellatrix had set for her.

Hermione crawled more this time, not only prowling but looking like she wanted to eat her prey while on her knees, arms bound behind her, a mouth to be used. Obviously, the reason Hermione thought of that particular mental image came from Bellatrix having her that way so many times. The blush that she felt thinking about all those times came from that, too, just as obviously. Yes, Hermione had long found women attractive, but she was attracted to women of lightness, like Fleur and Tonks (although, sadly, as unrequited crushes), not a woman who used her mouth and tongue as a sex toy.

The arousal starting to slowly spill out of her came from thinking of her crushes, not from the memory of Mistress twisting her fingers through her hair, putting Hermione’s mouth and tongue exactly where She wanted it, claiming She liked “being more hands-on than hands-off like you”, then cackling at Her own joke, which was fair enough as Hermione had her mouth and tongue going just how she knew Bellatrix needed to orgasm. Hermione may have desired far-kinder women, but she enjoyed the power of bringing even a woman like Bellatrix to a moaning, screaming orgasm, flooding musky sweetness sweetness into her mouth. Bellatrix might be evil but Hermione admitted in the dark late at night that She was utterly delicious when She orgasmed with Hermione there to receive and clean up all that delicious nectar flowing out of her.

Suddenly, Hermione felt every nerve in her body send pain signals as she was brought back to the here and now by a brief _Cruciatus_ , cast by a visibly angry Bellatrix. Mistress said nothing, giving her a moment pain-free followed by another _Cruciatus_ , but the look on her face spoke volumes. She looked more like a Fury than Allecto Carrow ever managed. Finally, she ended the curse, face relaxing into a calmer anger.

Hermione visibly gulped. She was not going to like this.

Several minutes later found Hermione bound to a St Andrews cross by _Incarcerous_ and being magically whipped by a gleefully cackling, furious Mistress. Hermione hated the stinging of the whip, as Bellatrix well knew. This was her punish for being a “bad girl”, after all. The tears streaming down her face and her sobs proved the punishment effective, as far as Mistress cared. The worst part as far as Hermione was concerned was that she didn’t even have any lasting marks to show for her pain and humiliation. The whip stung and hurt but magically didn’t damage the skin. Mistress could, and had, punished Hermione by whipping her into a screamingly-sobbing broken woman while Hermione’s back remained unmarked.

Punishment finally over, Hermione recovered enough to crawl more for Bellatrix. This time she managed to stay present instead of falling into her head. She found a sinuous rhythm to crawl back to Mistress that didn’t rely on her hip-swaying as much as maintaining eye contact while projecting lust and desire through her eyes and movements. Bellatrix looked both like She was suppressing Her arousal and like She was suppressing Her happiness with Hermione’s success.

“Adequate, pet. You will need to practice more when I am away, making travel arrangements,” Mistress commanded while Hermione pretended that she wasn’t hurt by Bellatrix going off without her.

Hermione refused to believe that she could ever want the Death Eater to keep her constantly with Her or that Bellatrix made her feel safe and in her place. As a Gryffindor, Hermione surely couldn’t desire to belong to anyone, let alone a monster like Bellatrix Black. That Hermione dreamed just that, the young woman chalked up to nightmares and a captive’s desire to please her captor to insure her own safety. At least until she escaped. Once she figured out how to defeat the wards.

Hermione realised that she was retreating into her head again as Mistress once again bound her to the cross. She pulled herself back into the moment, excited that she was going to get rewarded as a good girl. Embarrassingly, she had stopped denying how much she enjoyed this once she had seen how much Bellatrix enjoyed it, too. Unconsciously, she wiggled against the metal supports as she remembered the blown look of lust in Mistress’ eyes after rewarding her.

Surprisingly, Bellatrix rewarded Hermione without magic. She claimed that flogging Hermione was good exercise. Which was true in as far as Her toned arms and supple shoulders looked amazing flogging Hermione as Hermione dazedly watched Her in the mirror Mistress thoughtfully hung in front of the cross just so Hermione could see what was coming. The Mirror of Erised had nothing on the image of Bellatrix Black, slightly winded, flogger in hand, chest heaving, and a brilliant grin beaming below dark, lust-filled eyes. Hermione’s back felt deliciously alive as the heavy, thick flogger rained thuds upon it. While Hermione never enjoyed actual flying, the soaring sensation as she reacted to the flogging felt like flying in the best possible way. Especially when she could also see Bellatrix’s grin get brighter as She rained down delicious pain upon her. Flogging was definitely a reward for both of them. Finally, Hermione’s mind stopped thinking and she just felt for a good, long while.

Hermione came back to herself lying in Mistress’ bed with Her arms wrapped around her. This was new. Bellatrix wasn’t one for aftercare prior to now. She normally left Hermione to sort herself out after healing Hermione of any “overenthusiastic” flogger strokes on her back. Neither ever admitted it, but both loved the resulting bruises as beautiful art on Hermione’s skin and unspokenly agreed to clothe Hermione in ways that showcased the bruises. Now, however, She had herself entwined around Hermione, having been lightly dozing, if the sleepy look in her eyes as She met her pet’s gaze was accurate. And, was that desire?

Hermione’s thoughts ended as Mistress kissed her. A surprisingly tender and tentative kiss that left Hermione breathless and utterly confused. Then she couldn’t think again as Bellatrix kissed her with more of Her expected possessiveness and confidence. Both of them lost themselves in kissing for a while, ending up with hands tangled in hair, moans rising from both of them. Bellatrix looked deeply into Hermione’s eyes, looking surprisingly uncertain for the woman who had taken her for Her pet years ago. Hermione, thankfully, didn’t stop to reflect for once, and instead answered by silently moving herself to be lying face-up on the bed with Bellatrix above her. Then, keeping Bellatrix’s gaze, she carefully moved Bellatrix’s hands to grip and pin both of her wrists to the bed.

Bellatrix’s eyes widened, but She quickly adapted to the situation and, keeping Hermione’s wrists pinned to either side of her head, began a slithering grinding of herself against Hermione’s prone body. When this resulted in Hermione gasping and moaning, Bellatrix’s triumphantly evil grin reappeared.

“Is this what you’ve been needing, pet? More personal attention from me?” Bellatrix asked, almost purring as she forced a knee between Hermione’s legs on ”personal”. Her voice sounded husky and aroused.

Hermione just dazedly nodded needily, utterly incapable of speech as she attempted to catch up with the fact that Bellatrix wanted this as much as she did. Her mind kept rejecting thinking beyond processing the desire, want, and need she felt after kissing Bellatrix and with her now deliciously rubbing against her very ready body. Hermione unconsciously moaned as she realised just how ready her body was as Bellatrix’s knee kept moving up her legs and pressed firmly against her crotch.

Eyes alight, Bellatrix looked like a demon, angel, monster, or dark goddess as she leaned up and back and laughed throatily. “We are going to have such fun, pet.”

Bellatrix pulled her wand from her sleeve after readjusting to pin Hermione’s hands with her other hand alone, and Hermione’s clothes tore themselves off her with loud ripping.

“I do love unwrapping my presents,” Bellatrix cackled at her own joke while Hermione shivered in anticipation.

Surprising both of them, Bellatrix cast _Divesto_ leaving them both nude. Quickly dropping her wand on a bedside table, She pressed Herself back against the utterly defenceless Hermione. For a few moments, both witches looked each other in the eyes, trying to figure out if the other wanted this as much as she did.

Then they were both a tangle of limbs as they kissed deeply and tried to fuse their bodies, pushing into each other, pulling the other against herself. Moans forced themselves out of both witches’ mouths, driving them to explore each other. As hands sought and found cheeks, throats, breasts, nipples and discovered the joys of stroking, lightly scratching, and pinching, moans turned to whines of desire and need. While both had realised how magical and unexpected what each had found answering her in the other was and wanted to explore just what that meant, desire won out over curiosity. Legs interwove as hands sought out soaked desire and then they were rubbing and writhing together, crashing into each other with a roaring scream of “Hermione!” from Bellatrix and an utterly silent scream of “Bellatrix!” from Hermione.

The most amazingly-powerful orgasm of her life following so quickly on the surprise of loving kisses, consensual sex that Hermione volunteered for, and the delicious flogging was too much for Hermione. As Hermione started to fall asleep to the memory of the mirror image of Bellatrix’s shoulder with the flogger fully extended, she could have sworn she heard Bellatrix say, “Now, how am I ever going to be able to give you up?”. But she slipped into a completely blissful slumber before she could even be sure she had actually heard anything. 

**Author's Note:**

> As this is a present, and I hate to keep a gift recipient waiting, I will try to have the next chapter (with additional relationship and other tags added) within the next couple weeks (as I am new at fiction writing). I am not actually sorry for the cliffhanger ending.


End file.
